


A Lord and His Man

by PrinceSircastic



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Slash, Smut, early 1900s AU, secret sinful homos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:06:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceSircastic/pseuds/PrinceSircastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan, a valet who has served the Darkholme family for twelve years, is tasked with looking after the young lord proposing marriage to Lady Anna-Marie - but things get complicated very quickly when Logan finds himself attracted to Lord Remy LeBeau, especially when he learns that Remy is hiding a bit of a secret himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lord and His Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isaytheenay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaytheenay/gifts).



> Because secret sinful homos are my favourites.

The day young Lord Remy arrived at the manor, Logan knew he was going to be trouble. He couldn't voice such thoughts, of course, else he'd lose his job and be turned out onto the street. No, he knew better than that. It was not his place to comment on the guests that frequently stayed with the Darkholmes. 

He'd been in the service of the Darkholme family for twelve years – twelve years of hard work and honest duty, and he'd been elevated to the position of valet after several years of being merely a footman. As such, it was his honour to serve the needs of the noblemen residing in the manor – and upon this occasion, he was given the task of serving the son of Earl Jean-Luc LeBeau. 

It was an honour, of course, to be chosen. Any slip in his behaviour would reflect badly upon the family's name, and such things could be delicate enough to disrupt the atmosphere of the visit. Considering the LeBeaus were here to discuss a potential marriage between Remy and Anna-Marie, any mistakes could prove fatal to the plans. 

Logan had always had a fondness for Anna-Marie. He'd watched her mature into a young woman, had been there for her in times of sadness, and had willingly given her advice whenever she'd asked. He was rather fond of all of the Darkholme children, if he was honest. Anna-Marie was the eldest, with a younger brother, Kurt, due to inherit the manor and its estate from their father, and growing up alongside them was young Jubilee, the orphaned daughter of a close family friend. Lady Darkholme had taken the young child in as her own, and raised her as one of the family. 

Lord Darkholme had taken ill some months ago, though it was near impossible to tell to outside eyes. Out of fear that he would not live to see his children taken care of, he had insisted that measures were to be taken to ensure his daughters would be settled with titles and estates of their own. Whilst finding a match for Jubilee would be somewhat more difficult, it hadn't taken long for Earl LeBeau to offer the proposal of marriage between their two households – his eldest son, for the Darkholmes' eldest daughter. 

An hour before the Earl and his young Lord son were due to arrive, Charles – the butler – lined up the staff and inspected each of them in turn, looking for even the smallest marks on their clothing, the slightest fault in their appearance. Satisfied that nothing was out of place, he sent them all on their way to do their final jobs before their presence was required for the arrival of the Earl. 

Logan had greeted the arrival of many Earls, and Dukes and Lords in his time at the manor. He knew the customs and the routines as well as he knew his own name. He stood, tall and straight, hands clasped at the base of his spine, alongside the footmen and the maids, and waited outside with the family. 

Like many of their previous guests, Earl LeBeau and his son arrived by car – and it was an impressive sight, indeed. It was a newer model than Logan had seen before, sleek black in colour with a splash of violet. The chauffeur rushed around to open the door, and Logan straightened up even further when the Earl stepped out and stood before them. 

Earl Jean-Luc LeBeau was an impressive man upon the first glance – he stood tall, almost impossibly so, with a sharp face that could intimidate without any effort at all. He wore his hair long, which Logan was not used to seeing, fashioned into a delicate braid in which gold strands had been woven. To the untrained eye he appeared simply dressed in a well-tailored suit, but Logan knew fabrics and he knew quality when he saw it, and this was almost certainly the highest quality – the long overcoat was light enough to fan out behind him as he strode forward, and lined with what appeared to be violet satin, or silk, providing the only splash of colour. He wore fine leather gloves, too, and carried a cane in one hand. 

"Ah, welcome to the manor, Earl LeBeau." Lord Darkholme stepped forward first, offering his hand to the Earl, who accepted it with a friendly smile that altered his face into something rather less intimidating. "Might I introduce you to my dear wife, Lady Raven Darkholme?" 

"A pleasure." The Earl's voice was smooth, with the lilt of a fascinating accent that Logan had yet to come across. He took Lady Darkholme's gloved hand and bent, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. His gaze found Anna-Marie, Kurt and Jubilee, lined up beside their mother and ready to greet their guest. Logan kept his eyes forward as the introductions were made, knowing his place. 

"It is an honour to have you here, your Lordship." Lady Darkholme smiled, and Logan remembered that generally Earls were referred to as Lords despite their title, though it was often polite to first address them by their given title – at least, that was what Logan was used to from his years in service.

"More so an honour fo' you to host us." The Earl replied, just as smoothly as before, turning to briefly acknowledge the staff with a nod of his head. In response, the maids gave him a brief curtsey in sync, and the footmen bowed. For Logan and Charles, however, they gave a polite bow of the head only. "Ah, but o' course I am not alone." The Earl smiled warmly, and turned back towards the car. "Come, come, Remy." He called, his voice fond. "Do forgive my son. He does like to make an entrance, dat's fo' sure." 

When Lord Remy LeBeau emerged from the car, Logan believed that 'making an entrance' was an understatement. 

He swept out of the car with unbelievable grace, ducking his head to clear the roof of the car, one hand holding his top hat in place until he could straighten up. Unlike his father, he was not dressed in simple attire with subtle colours – instead he was rather the opposite. The coat he wore was a sleek work of beauty, with a military design across the chest and shoulders, but fitted like a waistcoat, and at the hips it fanned out behind him in a similar fashion to a cape, or cloak. Black in colour, it had trimmings of gold and violet, and lined with the same violet satin or silk as his father's overcoat. Beneath the coat he wore a pristine white shirt with ruffled sleeves and a high collar, around which was tied a vibrant violet ribbon, looped into a delicate bow. In place of trousers, he wore instead knee-length shorts in the same black as his coat, but turned up at the knee in deep violet, with gold trim. His boots reached almost to the knee, violet in colour to the ankle, where the colour merged into black. Like his father, he wore black leather gloves, and a single violet feather was delicately placed in the gold ribbon that wound around his top hat. 

The young man himself was something of a work of art, too – bearing a striking resemblance to his father with sharp cheekbones and sharper eyes, but he differed from him in colouring. Whereas his father was black of hair, Remy was a more vibrant coppery auburn, though he, too, wore it long, but not braided. He strode forward with all the grace of a peacock on display, sweeping the hat from his head in a grand gesture as he gave a polite bow to the Darkholme family. At this distance, Logan could see what made his eyes so sharp – black in place of white, and burning red irises that even the reddest of hair could not compare to. 

"Why, what is dis fine beauty dat stands befo' Remy here?" The accent was stronger than his father's, but made his voice all the more beautiful for it. Logan expected him to be speaking to Anna-Marie, or even perhaps Jubilee, but he was surprised to find that Remy's attention was fixed upon the Lady Darkholme. Remy took her offered hand and kissed it as his father had done. "If you are de magnificent Lady Darkholme, den yo' fair daughters must surely be a tribute to yo' beauty." He turned his attention to Jubilee next, taking her hand to kiss it as he'd kissed her mother's. "Alas, what shame it is dat a man can only marry but one woman, fo' you are as radiant as de sun, an' yo' eyes are brighter still." 

"Oh…" Jubilee blushed, and did her best to conceal her pink cheeks with a gloved hand. Logan didn't miss the quick wink Remy gave her before he turned his attention elsewhere, passing over Kurt for the moment until his eyes found Anna-Marie. 

"An' you, why dere is no mistakin' who you are, my lady." He bowed low, kissing her knuckles as he straightened up. "If yo' sister is as radiant as de sun, den you are as divine as de moon." He held Anna-Marie's hand within both of his own, gently, as though she were fragile. "What lucky man Remy must be fo' you to even consider giving yo' fair heart to him, fo' he would give his if only ever you ask it o' him." 

"Your son is a charmer, your Lordship." Lady Darkholme told the Earl with a delighted smile. "And a fine gentleman." 

"A true credit to yourself." Lord Darkholme added, to which the Earl gave a polite bow of his head. "Might we go inside and get you both settled? I understand you have your own valet to take care of your needs, but your son does not. Our good man Logan will see to him." Now that the attention had been drawn to him, Logan bowed properly. 

"Excellent. You have my t'anks." Jean-Luc smiled. "Mikael!" A man of similar age to Jean-Luc stepped up beside him, dressed in a valet's attire, blond hair worn long like his master's, kept neatly out of his face. "Would you see to it dat my luggage is taken to de righ' room?"

"O' course, my Lord." Mikael gave a bow of his head, and hurried back to the car to help the chauffeur with the luggage. Lord Darkholme led the party into the manor, the other servants splitting off to enter at the back of the house. Charles held open the door for them as they entered one by one, followed by Logan and Mikael, each carrying the luggage. 

"Mikael, your lordship has been given a grand suite on the second floor." Charles told him, turning just as Erik appeared through a side-door. "Erik, assist Mikael to the Earl's suite." He turned back to Logan. "You know where to take the Lord's luggage, Logan. I shall leave you to it." With a nod, Charles followed the others through to the drawing room. Logan shifted the weight of the case he held in one hand, and made for the stairs – but he stopped as he realised he still had company. 

Remy had not followed his father. 

"Might I assist you with something, my lord?" Logan asked, feeling a little unsettled under Remy's interesting gaze. 

"Non." Remy shook his head and Logan frowned very faintly – was that French? "Remy jus' wanted to admire dis place." He regarded Logan for a moment, and then he smiled. "Perhaps later you show Remy around, eh?" Logan gave him a polite smile in return. 

"Of course, my lord. It would be my pleasure." Remy's smile turned rather sly at that, but he said no more. He flipped hair out of his face with a subtle flick of his head, and with chin lifted, shoulders back, Remy strode off through the manor after his father, his coat sweeping out behind him, the heels of his boots clicking sharply on the floor. 

Logan watched him go, both amused and a little bewildered. He hadn't seen clothing of that style in a long time, as the general fashion was leaning towards subtlety rather than such extravagant designs, but he found himself admitting that it suited the young Lord. He wondered if Anna-Marie had any idea of what she was getting herself into. There really was no question about whether or not the proposal would be accepted – if Anna-Marie were to marry Remy, she would one day become a Countess and the LeBeau estate would be hers. Considering the fortune that came with the name, Lord Darkholme was not likely to let this opportunity go. 

He would miss the young lady, Logan thought as he carried Remy's luggage to his chambers. Upon marriage she would live with Remy at his father's manor, and he would only ever see her when she came to visit. He imagined one of the first times she would return to her home would be to announce the first pregnancy of their marriage. 

Thinking about young Anna with a baby was a little too much to take in, and so Logan turned his mind to other things whilst he unpacked Remy's clothes and hung them accordingly. He handled everything with greatest care, marvelling at the fabrics and designs he was unearthing. Remy favoured the extravagant styles, that much was clear, but he did also own some tails and a relatively tame dinner jacket, which he would no doubt be needing later. He was honestly surprised to see the two somewhat average garments amongst the others – they looked and felt out of place. Still, it would be interesting to see if he had the same presence in something as simple as a dinner jacket. 

He would surely find out later. 

\-- 

The rest of the afternoon passed by with little excitement – the two noble families were no doubt discussing important matters in regards to the proposal, and when going about his duties Logan had spotted Anna-Marie walking arm-in-arm with the Lord in the gardens. He was a little surprised that Lord Darkholme would allow his daughter to be alone in the presence of a young man so soon – he must really approve of him. 

When Charles rang the dressing gong that evening, Logan hurried up from the servants' hall to escort the young Lord to his room for him to change into his evening wear. Remy was silent as they ascended the stairs – in fact he did not speak until they were inside his chambers and the door was closed behind them. 

"Yo' name is Logan, oui?" Logan had taken a few minutes of his free time to ask Charles about the LeBeau family, learning of their heritage. The accent, he was told, was from New Orleans, Cajun to be precise, which also explained the occasional French. 

"That's right, my lord." Logan waited as Remy took in his room, taking his hat from him when he swept it off his head. He hung it on the stand on the dresser, stepping forward when Remy began to unbutton his jacket. 

"Well den, Logan… migh' you help wit' Remy's jacket? Dese buttons can be awful fiddly." Remy turned to face him, and Logan gave him a polite smile. 

"Of course." He took over the task – although the buttons seemed to be less fiddly than Remy had made them out to be. He was curious about that, and wondered if perhaps the young man was just lazy and making the most out of Logan's services, but he held his tongue, simply moving to stand behind him as he gently eased the jacket from Remy's shoulders. "Might I say, my lord, you have a fine wardrobe." 

"T'ank you." Remy smiled, watching as Logan hung the jacket up. "Remy likes to be noticed." Logan held back the urge to laugh at that, not wanting it to be mistaken for mockery. He guessed Remy would want him to assist with the rest of his clothing, too, and so he stepped back up in front of him to deal with the gold waistcoat that had previously been concealed beneath the jacket. He felt Remy's eyes upon him as removed the waistcoat, draping it carefully over the back of a chair for now, and he tried not to squirm under that steady gaze. "Lady Anna-Marie tells Remy dat you are rat'er close wit' her." 

"She honours me." Logan's smile was softer this time, and Remy smirked as he loosened the ribbon around his collar, handing it to Logan once it was free, before he wandered over to stand in front of the mirror. 

"You have known her some time, oui?" Remy's long, quick fingers made short work of the buttons of his shirt, and Logan stepped up behind him to remove it from his shoulders. 

"Twelve years, my lord." His fingertips brushed against Remy's bare skin – soft, he noticed, and warm – as he eased the shirt down slowly. "She was still very young when I came into service here." He stepped back to hang up the shirt so it would not crease, and turned just as Remy perched himself on the end of the bed. Logan already knew what was required of him, and so he knelt upon the floor in front of him, and gently slid one hand beneath his calf, lifting his leg a little. 

"She's very fond o' you." Remy murmured, watching as Logan began to unlace his boot. 

"And I of her, my lord. She has a gentle heart." Logan told him, carefully sliding the boot off and setting it to one side, turning to do the same for the other. "She will make a wonderful wife." 

"Oh, Remy has no doubt." The lace on this boot had knotted tightly, and so Logan was forced to prop Remy's foot upon his knee in order to use both hands to loosen it. "Papa says dat we'll be stayin' here fo' a while, now dat de engagement is official." 

"I will be happy to serve you for the duration of your stay, my lord." _Damn this lace_. He tugged upon it a little harder in his frustration, and then realised he ought to take more care. "My apologies, my lord. I am just having some minor difficulty with this lace." 

"Here, let Remy do it." Before Logan could protest, Remy was leaning down and his fingers brushed against Logan's. Logan had heard the maids talking about an electric shock sensation when first touching the man of their dreams, and he had scoffed at the idea and passed it off as foolish nonsense – however there was nothing else Logan could think of to describe how it had felt when their hands touched. 

"Forgive me." He murmured quickly, bowing his head to hide the faint flush he felt creeping across his cheeks. What on earth was wrong with him? He had never before acted this way, and now was not the time to start, certainly. Remy said nothing in return, but his fingers moved fast and managed to loosen the knot, and so Logan took over and carefully removed the boot. "Do you have a particular preference for your evening wear, my lord?" He stood quickly, turning to the wardrobe so he could give himself a moment to control himself. 

"Dere's a simple black outfit dat Remy t'inks would suit, non? Wit' de silver trim." Logan opened up the wardrobe and found the clothing Remy described, pulling it out and holding it up for him. "Oui, dat's de one." With a nod, Logan sought out the lower half – similar shorts to the ones Remy currently wore, and laid them out for him so he could change whilst Logan separated the rest of the outfit. 

Logan had served as a valet to all sorts of men – young and old – and had seen much of all of them, especially when it came to running their baths. Some men, he'd found, were more self-conscious and preferred to be covered in his presence, and of course there were those who were perfectly comfortable with quite the opposite. None, however, had been quite like Remy. Beautiful was a word Logan usually reserved for the ladies, but Remy certainly was beautiful. He usually kept his eyes averted to save the dignity of whoever he was serving, but he was positioned just so that he had a clear view of Remy in the full-length mirror. 

When fully dressed it was hard to imagine that the young man's body was so toned and muscular – he looked far too slender and willowy – and yet he was, almost perfectly so. He was considerably tanned compared to what Logan was used to, his skin flawless save for a few pale marks which could only be scars. Idly, Logan wondered what had caused them. 

He hurriedly averted his eyes as Remy slid his shorts down sinfully long legs, feeling his cheeks burning once more. He forced himself to focus simply on getting the young lord dressed. He could deal with his conflicting emotions and troubled thoughts later, when he didn't have a job to do. By the time he turned, holding the shirt in his hands, Remy was fastening the shorts and settling them on his hips. 

"You work quietly, Logan." Remy observed as he was helped into his shirt – the sleeves only reached his elbows, turned up on themselves and trimmed with the same silver as the jacket. 

"Just getting the job done quickly for you, my lord." He offered him a smile as he held out the waistcoat for him. "I wouldn't want you to be late for dinner." He stepped around to face him so he could fasten the waistcoat for him – there was a slim silver belt that settled about his waist, and he buckled it comfortably for him. 

"Yo' very efficient, den. Dat's good." Remy nodded, twisting at the waist a little to inspect how the waistcoat looked on him. Logan found himself thinking it looked incredible on his slender figure, and mentally scolded himself for doing so. "Remy will put himself entirely in yo' hands, den." Logan felt himself flush a little at that, and he turned to fetch the jacket – like the shirt, the sleeves only reached the elbows, turned up with silver trim. It was a slim fit on him, with a half-Peplum design at the back, in both black and silver, and it hung open at the front instead of being fastened. "What do you t'ink?" 

"Very nice, my lord. You look splendid." Logan smiled politely, gently brushing the shoulders down for him. Once he was satisfied, he waited for Remy to pick out a pair of boots, and then dropped to one knee as Remy sat, and helped him put them on. He laced them with care, making sure not to make the knots too tight so he wouldn't embarrass himself later when he would have to remove them again. Now fully dressed, Remy stood and positioned himself in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, and then he lifted his hands to his hair. 

"How are you wit' hair, Logan?" Remy sighed, toying with the long ponytail. 

"I confess I have little experience. What did you have in mind?" 

"Non, it does not matter. Dis will do fo' now." He turned from the mirror, and Logan took a step back when he realised how close they were. "Could you pass de gloves?" Logan wasn't entirely used to being _asked_ for things by the guests he served – they usually demanded things of him, or expected him to know what they required without being told. He handed over the gloves, standing by as Remy pulled them on – they reached almost to his elbows, simple and black, and Logan thought they were rather like the gloves Lady Anna-Marie and Lady Jubilee wore. "Righ'. Remy's ready." 

"Might I lead you downstairs, my lord?" 

"Oui, t'ank you." With another polite smile, Logan crossed the room to the door and held it open for him. He watched Remy strut past him, and smiled to himself, amused at his obvious confidence. He'd met some arrogant nobles in his years in service, but Remy didn't fit into the category, despite how sure of himself he was. 

Valets usually had no place in the dining room – that was the job for the footmen and the butler – but Scott had taken ill that afternoon, and so it was Logan's job to fill in for him. He half-listened to the conversation that went around the table as he refilled wine glasses and helped to serve the food, his eyes darting back to Remy every so often. Jean-Luc took up some of his interest too – the Earl had chosen to go with a simple white-tie and tails look, as the Lord Darkholme and young Master Kurt had, a contrast to his son, of course. 

"Do you ride, Remy?" Jubilee asked, leaning over the table a little towards him. Logan tried not to let his smile show on his face – he could tell she already liked him. 

"Oui, petite. Remy's been ridin' since he was big enough to get on de horse." Remy told her with a charming grin. 

"We have our own stables here, of course. Perhaps you could go riding together one morning?" Lady Darkholme suggested. "Our Anna knows the best paths to take." 

"Do you hunt, your Lordship?" Lord Darkholme asked, sipping his wine. "It is not a practice I often get to enjoy here, as my family has a fond heart for all living creatures." 

"I do, oui." Jean-Luc smiled over at him. "T'ough it is not some'tin' dat is done often. We have a scheduled hunt twice a year, an' one aroun' de new year." He glanced over at Remy, sat beside Anna-Marie on the opposite side of the table. "Remy's a fine marksman." 

"Perhaps we could arrange a hunt to celebrate the engagement?" Lord Darkholme glanced at his lady wife, who gave him a somewhat disapproving look but said nothing against it. 

"Dat would be a migh'y fine t'ing." Jean-Luc agreed. Logan found himself moving around to Remy's side of the table, using the excuse of refilling Remy's wine glass. As he leant around him to pour the wine, he overheard the conversation he'd started up with Anna-Marie. 

"Ah, sweet lady, not only are you beautiful, but intelligent too. Why, Remy's more dan lucky to be marryin' you, non?" He took her hand, kissing her knuckles in turn, and Logan was surprised to hear her laugh a little girlishly at his attention. Anna-Marie had never laughed like that for a boy in her life. 

"You are such a flatterer, my lord." She laughed, half-heartedly trying to pull her hand from his when he leant in to kiss it again. 

"Oh no, no, cher… not 'my lord'. You may use Remy's name, non?" He grinned at her, holding her hand all the more tightly. "For are we not betrot'ed?" He trailed his fingertips up the inside of her wrist, catching her arm in a gentle grasp, and he turned her hand to kiss her palm. "You are Remy's intended, an' he will not have anyt'in' less." He dropped his voice to a low murmur, his grin turning a little mischievous. "Or do you intend to call him 'my lord' on our weddin' night?" Logan pulled back a little more sharply than he'd intended, stunned that Remy would say such a thing at the dinner table. Anna-Marie gave another girlish laugh and playfully swatted at Remy's chest with her free hand. The sound attracted the attention of the others, and Anna-Marie quickly busied herself with taking a sip of her wine. 

"I do hope yo' behavin' yo'self, Remy." Jean-Luc was smiling knowingly at his son, his tone amused. 

"O' course, Papa." Remy gave him a smile that would charm even the coldest of men, letting Anna-Marie's hand fall from his. Anna-Marie had to stifle another laugh behind her hand, and Remy gave her a sly little grin when no one was looking – no one but Logan, of course. 

After dinner had finished, the ladies went into the drawing room, leaving the men sat around the table – Charles stepped forward to give each of them a small glass of whiskey, and Lord Darkholme produced a cigar whilst Jean-Luc pulled out two cigarettes from a case, handing one over to Remy. 

As they smoked, they discussed hunting and politics, and Logan could see that both Kurt and Remy were somewhat uninterested in the conversation. Kurt, who'd never had a taste for whiskey, was swirling it around in his glass, and Remy leant back in his chair and attempted to blow out smoke rings. Jean-Luc could tell his son's attention was fading fast, and so he stubbed out his cigarette, finished his whiskey, and suggested they go through to join the ladies.

Jean-Luc sat himself at the piano and played a few songs for them, whilst Kurt played cards with Jubilee and Remy – who seemed to be winning an awful lot. Logan, still acting as footman for the evening, circled the room to refill glasses and offer coffee to anyone who wished for some. He was just bringing through another decanter of wine when Remy rose from his seat and offered a hand to Anna-Marie, and he pulled her into a dance. Logan watched as he led her around the available space, moving with such delicate grace. Anna-Marie laughed as he dipped her at the end of a song, and Logan didn't miss the wink he gave her before he set her back on her feet. 

Logan was relieved when everyone started retiring for the night. Anna-Marie and Remy left together, and as his valet, Logan followed. They ascended the stairs together, and Remy bent once more to kiss her hand before they parted ways for the night. Logan couldn't help but smile to himself as he led the way to Remy's room. He'd worried about what kind of man the young lady was going to end up married to, but as mischievous as Remy was, he seemed like a good man – and she liked him, that much was obvious. 

"Remy was surprised to see you at dinner, Logan." Remy said as he sat on the edge of the bed, Logan already getting into position to remove his boots. "Remy didn' t'ink it was part o' a valet's duties." 

"Normally it isn't, my lord, but one of our footmen was taken ill." He set the boots aside and waited for Remy to stand so he could take his jacket. "I was simply filling in the position for him." 

"Do you t'ink de Lady Anna-Marie likes Remy?" He asked as Logan unfastened his waistcoat and removed that, too. 

"I'd say so, my lord." Logan smiled, taking the shirt next. "She seems to have taken to you rather well." He'd already set out Remy's nightwear, and he busied himself with tidying away Remy's clothes whilst he changed. 

"Good. Dat's good." Remy sat himself on the edge of the bed where he could still see the mirror, and tugged the ribbon from his hair, letting it spill free down his back. He hadn't yet put on the shirt, and the coppery auburn colour was a sharp contrast to his skin. Remy sighed, sound a little annoyed, and he dragged his fingers through his hair a few times. "Do you mind, Logan?" He gestured to a hairbrush Logan had previously set on the side for him when he'd unpacked, and Logan fetched it for him – and when Remy did not take it from him, he realised Remy expected him to brush his hair for him. 

Well, there's a first time for everything. 

He'd only once brushed someone else's hair in his life – a young Anna-Marie, who in a tantrum over the loss of her favourite maid (Logan remembered she'd left to get married) refused to accept the help of her replacement, and had come to Logan in tears with tangled hair, and asked if he would do it instead. Well, how could anyone say no to that? 

He went at the task with the same care he'd used with Anna-Marie, gently pulling the brush through Remy's hair. It felt as soft as it looked, the strands slipping through his fingers like silk. He kept glancing at the mirror to get a good look at Remy's face, wondering if he was doing it right and watching for any signs that he was hurting him – but Remy sat comfortably, eyes closed and a soft smile on his face, and Logan took that to mean he was doing something very, very right. 

Logan never imagined he would enjoy something like this, but he was enjoying it, and he realised he'd continued brushing even though all of the tangles were gone. Remy either hadn't noticed or didn't care, for he hadn't said anything – although he would occasionally hum softly and he sighed gently from time to time. After a while Logan knew he would have to move things along, and so he reluctantly put the brush down. 

"There you are, my lord." Remy opened his eyes and smiled, rising from the bed. He smoothed his hands down over his hair, gathering it up and twisting it down over one shoulder. 

"T'ank you, Logan. Remy t'inks he can take it from here." Logan nodded, and turned towards the door.

"Typically, breakfast is served at 8am. Would you like me to wake you at any particular time?" Remy's head tilted to one side as he thought about it. 

"Remy should like to be dressed by half-past seven." He told him after a moment, and Logan nodded. 

"Of course, my lord. Sleep well." Logan stepped out of the room and closed the door, getting a final glimpse of Remy as he pulled back the sheets on the bed. When Logan settled himself in his own bed almost an hour later, he dreamt of a certain red-haired Lord. 

\-- 

Remy belonged astride a horse. 

It had been Lady Jubilee who suggested they go for a ride the next morning after breakfast, and so Logan had found himself outfitting Remy in proper riding attire – although the young Lord still somehow managed to look more extravagant than the others. Anna-Marie had given him the chance to choose his own horse, and Remy had selected Snow, one of the white mares, telling Anna-Marie how she reminded him of his white stallion back home – Gambit, he'd said it was called. As Scott was still feeling rather unwell, Logan had been there to offer light refreshments to them before they took off on the ride. Kitty, one of the housemaids, stepped up beside him as the four of them took off, Remy and Anna-Marie leading the way. 

"That Remy is rather appealing to the eye, isn't he?" She grinned, and Logan knew he should probably remind her of her place, but he couldn't bring himself to. Because Remy _was_ appealing to the eye, and he couldn't deny that. "Lady Anna-Marie's such a lucky lady." 

"And he is lucky to have her, I might remind you." He chided her, but he smiled fondly at her when she looked up at him. "Don't get too attached, Kitty. The moment they're married he'll whisk her away to his manor. He won't be sticking around." 

"A shame. I'd rather like to _serve_ him." Kitty winked, and Logan laughed. 

"Behave." He followed her back into the house, listening to her comments about Remy and knowing that if anyone else overheard she'd probably lose her job for speaking so crudely about a guest. He'd never admit that some of the things she joked about wanting to do to him also appealed to him, too. 

His dream about Remy was still fresh in his mind and it worried him that he was so drawn to him. All his life Logan had known he had a much more open mind to romantic and physical attraction, though he'd never speak of it – such things were considered a crime, of course, and he would rather not be jailed for it. He'd successfully hidden that side of himself for the sake of his freedom, and working for the Darkholme family had given him an appropriate distraction. Whilst having a romantic life was not forbidden for servants, his life was kept so busy that he didn't really have time for it.

He tended to the young Lord's clothes from the previous day whilst he waited for their return, and hung them up so they wouldn't crease. The bed had already been made, of course, but he busied himself with that, too, wanting to keep himself busy so he couldn't think too much about how he longed to run his fingers through that silky hair once more. When he'd dressed Remy that morning, he'd been given a second chance at brushing his hair to free it of sleep-tangles, and he'd made it last as long as possible. 

He was down in the servants' hall when the bell rang from upstairs, and he hurried up, knowing his services would be needed – Remy would wish to remove his riding clothes, and get dressed for luncheon. As it turned out, more would be required – all four of them had mud splashed up their riding trousers and somehow Remy and Jubilee had managed to get it on their jackets and faces, too. 

"I think we'll all be needing baths before luncheon." Anna-Marie said with a laugh when they were met with Charles, Kitty and Logan. 

"Oh, no doubt." Charles smiled fondly. "Kitty, run a bath for Lady Anna-Marie, and tell Amara to get one started for Lady Jubilee. I shall inform Erik that Master Kurt requires his attention." He gave them a bow of the head and turned, disappearing off into the house, Kitty on his heels. Whilst the Darkholme children each wandered up to their rooms, Remy ascended in step with Logan. 

"Did you have fun on the ride, my lord?" Logan found himself asking – usually he would wait for the guest to speak first, but Remy made things a little more at ease than he was used to. 

"Remy did, oui." He grinned. "Lady Anna-Marie sure knows how to ride, an' Lady Jubilee is a hard one to keep up wit'." Logan went straight through to the en-suite bathroom when they reached Remy's room, and began to run the water. 

"They've both been riding for many years. Lady Jubilee would love to race one day." Logan told him, checking the water's temperature before he allowed it to fill the tub. Remy joined him in the bathroom, his jacket unbuttoned and ready to be removed. 

"She would be a winner." Remy smiled, and Logan straightened to see to his clothing. "Is Kurt always so quiet?" 

"Ah, yes, my lord. He's always been a quiet one, preferring to be in the background." He folded Remy's jacket and shirt on a chair, and helped him out of his riding boots. "Lord Darkholme hopes he will come out of his shell soon, and find his confidence." 

"It can be hard, knowin' dat one day you'll inherit a grand title an' a huge estate, an' be relied upon to produce an heir to keep de family name goin'." Remy sighed a little at that. Logan checked the water, and turned off the taps, glancing over as Remy stood and started to remove his trousers. "Remy's sure he'll find his confidence soon enough." 

"I do hope so. I know he struggles with the idea of becoming Lord Darkholme." He tried to keep his eyes above Remy's waist as he stood beside the tub, ready to assist if necessary. Remy slid beneath the water with a long, content sigh, his eyes closing as he did so. "Do you require anything of me, my lord?" 

"Non, not just yet, t'ank you. What time will luncheon be served?" Logan glanced through into the bedroom to look at the clock. 

"You have an hour and a half, my lord." He told him. "I shall be stepping out shortly to fetch some fresh towels for you. I should only be a few minutes." Remy waved his hand in a casual dismissal, clearly content to soak quietly for as long as he needed.

Logan exited the room to fetch the towels, thankful for a moment's escape. He was having all sorts of inappropriate thoughts regarding the young Lord – even thinking about him lying in that bath tub, skin glistening from the water, his head tipped back as he enjoyed the warmth… he swallowed thickly as he ducked into the linen cupboard, and he had to grip one of the shelves tightly as he tried to force his thoughts somewhere else.

That he was even considering relieving his tension was a sure sign that he was slipping into dangerous territory – and the Lord was due to remain here for many days to come. How on earth was he going to survive that? 

He grabbed the towels and quickly made his way back, hoping he could control his thoughts, and in turn, his body. That would be embarrassing and mortifying – and he was almost certain Remy would want someone else to take over the position of his valet, if he didn't insist on leaving altogether. He couldn't risk that, not only for his own sake but for Anna-Marie's, too. If the engagement was broken because of him, he wouldn't forgive himself. 

Remy had begun to bathe properly by the time he returned, running the bar of soap over his skin in slow, steady motions. He looked up as Logan entered, and flashed him a smile that sent a shiver down Logan's spine. He turned, setting the towels to one side, and then busied himself with taking care of the clothes he'd folded up earlier. 

"What might my lord wish to wear for luncheon?" He asked, just to break the silence. 

"De outfit Remy picked fo' de mornin', befo' de ridin' was scheduled. Dat should suit." Remy replied, and Logan nodded, moving back into the bedroom to get it ready for him. He was just giving Remy's boots a quick polish when the young Lord called out to him. "Logan?" He set the boots down and wiped his hands on the cloth he had spread across his lap, and hurried into the bathroom. 

"Yes, my lord?" Remy had sat up a little, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. 

"Would you mind helpin' Remy a lil'?" He grinned at him. "He can' quite reach his back, see? An' he needs help wit' his hair." 

"Oh… of course, my lord. It would be my pleasure." _Quite literally_ , he added in his head. He knelt beside the tub, taking the soap from Remy's hand, and began to rub it into his back, being careful to be gentle. When Remy groaned softly, Logan nearly dropped the soap. 

He shifted further around the back of the tub to get a better angle, and hoped he could get through this as soon as possible – but at the same time he wanted it to last as long as possible, because this was probably one of the only chances he'd get to be this familiar with him. He kept it going just a little longer than necessary, but not too long for it to raise suspicion. 

"There you are, my lord." His voice sounded odd, but he put that down to how dry his mouth had become. Remy turned to glance at him over one shoulder, and Logan swallowed thickly – because the look Remy was giving him was so intimate, so sensual… almost _seductive_. 

"T'ank you, Logan. Yo' very kind." Remy's tongue swept across his lips, and he turned just enough to take the soap from him. "Don' go too far, will you? Remy will need you to help wash his hair soon." Logan could only think about how long and pretty Remy's eyelashes were, and it took a moment to register what Remy had said. 

"Of course, my lord. Just give me a shout when you require my assistance." He stood, drying his hands on one of the towels, and he hurried from the room – he needed to distract himself so he wouldn't focus on that look Remy had given him. He'd seen that look plenty of times before, but never focused in his direction. Had it been intentional? Was he being tested, or… no, that was impossible. Remy was betrothed to Anna-Marie, and quite possibly ready to fall in love with her. There simply wasn't any way he would be interested in a servant – and a male one, at that. 

He'd just finished polishing Remy's boots when Remy called for him again, and so Logan took a deep breath and went to assist him. He followed Remy's instructions, waiting as he ducked under the water to give his hair a quick rinse to start with, and then Logan began to rub shampoo into his hair in soft, gentle movements, biting his lip to stop himself from making any embarrassing sounds. Remy, however, did nothing of the sort – he moaned and groaned at every touch, and sighed happily, leaning back into Logan's hands. 

"Dis feels so nice." Remy murmured after a minute or two, hands gripping the sides of the tub as Logan worked. "You have great hands, Logan. Anyone ever tell you dat?" 

"Not that I recall, my lord." His voice sounded a little strained, and he hoped Remy wouldn't notice – but the sounds he was making were doing all the wrong things to him. "But thank you." He was equal parts thankful and disappointed when he'd finished rubbing the shampoo into Remy's hair, and he rinsed his hands before telling Remy he could duck beneath the water. He stood as Remy rinsed the shampoo from his hair, crossing the room to dry his hands once more. Thankfully he had his body under control, so at least he would avoid an embarrassing situation. 

"Remy t'ink he's ready to get out." Remy murmured, trying to squeeze as much water from his hair as possible. Logan nodded and selected the largest towel of the pile, unfolding it and holding it out, ready. Remy gripped the sides of the tub and lifted himself out, stepping gratefully into the offered towel. Logan wrapped it around him and Remy grasped it loosely whilst Logan turned to pick up another for his hair, and he gently rubbed it over his head to catch the drips. He let the towel drape around his shoulders once he was done, and he let his hands linger on Remy's shoulders for a moment. "Logan…" Remy was giving him _that_ look again, the look that did things to him. For a moment all Logan could think about was how breathtaking Remy's eyes were so close up, and then Remy was leaning in and- 

-and he was kissing him. 

It didn't last long and Logan had hardly registered it was happening before Remy was pulling away, but he could feel his heart racing and he was suddenly all too aware of their close proximity and he prayed to whatever god was listening that his body wouldn't betray him _now_. 

"Forgive me." Remy breathed out, stepping back away from him to give him some space. Logan let his hands fall to his sides, not quite sure what to do with them now, and he felt his face flushing as it finally registered that Remy – Lord Remy, the most beautiful man Logan had ever known – had kissed him.

"No… no, my lord. Forgive _me_." He said quickly, dragging a hand through his hair and loosening it from its tamed state. "I must have… lured you into that somehow. The fault is entirely mine, and I will understand if you require a new valet." Remy stepped forward again and pressed a finger to Logan's lips. 

"Non. No one lures Remy LeBeau." He murmured, eyes flitting down to Logan's lips, and then back up to his eyes. "An' I will not be requirin' a new valet." He smiled now, something of the usual Remy creeping back. "What Remy will require, however, is help wit' dressin'." He strode into the bedroom, leaving Logan to finally breathe properly and try to wrap his head around what just happened. 

It wasn't until he started to follow him that he realised Remy had briefly dropped his odd habit of referring to himself in third person. 

Remy had already dried himself off and pulled on his shorts – vibrant red this time – by the time Logan joined him beside the bed. Remy stood in front of the mirror, giving Logan a smile as he passed by to pick up his shirt – black, rather than white – and he moved around to hold it out for him. He could smell the soap on Remy's skin and the shampoo he'd used in his hair as he adjusted the shirt's collar around his neck, his fingers brushing against his skin very softly – and was it his imagination or did Remy shiver ever so slightly? 

Remy made no move to button the shirt, so Logan did it for him, working much more slowly than he usually would, fingers moving automatically as his eyes met Remy's – and the young Lord let out a soft, almost shaky breath as Logan smoothed the shirt out down his sides. Remy licked his lips as Logan picked up the gold ribbon, and he lifted his chin as Logan looped it around his collar and tied it, brushing his hair away from his neck as he adjusted it very slightly. Everything seemed to take twice as long as it actually did, and Logan was taking such care with each detail that went into the outfit. 

"De half-train… dat's next. De fastenin' needs to be under de waistcoat." Remy told him, voice low and soft, and Logan nodded, picking up the black length of pleated fabric attached to a wide black band. He draped it over his arm as he reached around Remy to tuck in his shirt, trying to keep his breathing even as he did so, his hands trembling very slightly as he was forced to step even further into Remy's personal space. Once the shirt was tucked in, he looped the band around his waist, settling it in the right place, his hands firm against Remy's body as he fastened it, and then crouching a little to fan the material out and straighten some of the pleats. The half-train, as Remy called it, only reached his knees, and Logan adjusted the cuffs of his shorts whilst he was down there. 

He looked up at Remy from his crouched position, hands gently smoothing down the fabric of his shorts, his eyes searching for any sign that this wasn't okay. When he saw none, he stroked back up his thighs more firmly, resting his hands upon Remy's hips as he straightened up. His breathing was definitely shaky as he fetched the red waistcoat, and he eased it over Remy's shoulders gently, fastening it and circling around to smooth it out across his shoulders. He noticed some of Remy's hair had been caught beneath it, and so he scooped it up with both hands and swept it away from the back of his neck – and Remy's breath hitched audibly. 

He turned on the spot, and Logan met him halfway, their lips joining as Remy's hands cupped his face. 

Logan's hands found their way back to Remy's hips as they kissed, and Remy's fingers threaded through Logan's hair as he pressed closer to him. Logan's lips parted as soon as Remy's tongue swiped against them, and someone moaned softly but it was impossible to tell who. 

It was the sound of the bell to alert the household to prepare for luncheon that broke them apart, and for a moment Logan had no idea where he was or what the bell meant – and then it came back to him. He'd just kissed Lady Anna-Marie's fiancé in his bedroom, and now they were going to be late for luncheon if he didn't finish dressing him. 

"I should… finish…" Logan murmured, licking his lips and trying to resist the urge to kiss him again. Remy's hand slid around to the back of Logan's neck and he pulled him in for another brief kiss, and then he nodded and perched on the end of the bed. Logan knelt in front of him as he had done so many times now, his hand sliding up Remy's calf slowly, gripping gently. He glanced up at him as he slid the first boot on, his eyes not breaking Remy's gaze. 

His fingers grasped Remy's ankle as he shifted closer, resting the heel of the boot on his own knee so he could lace it. He broke Remy's gaze as his fingers found the laces, and he carefully, delicately set to work, tying the final knot as he glanced up at him once more. He didn't move onto the next straight away – his fingers glided up the soft red leather of the boot, his hand cupping behind Remy's knee, and he leant forward to press his lips to the smooth skin of his knee. 

Knowing he didn't have much time left to finish dressing him, he moved onto the second boot, smiling when Remy propped his foot up onto Logan's knee without any prompting, and Logan couldn't help but grin as he leant forward to kiss his other knee, as he had done the first. He straightened up, holding out his hands to help Remy to his feet – unnecessary, but he wanted any excuse to touch him, and Remy seemed to be of the same mind for he slipped his hands into Logan's and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. 

Before he reached for the jacket, Logan picked up the hairbrush and stepped behind Remy, carefully easing out the tangles the towel had caused. Logan knew very little about what to do with long hair since he'd never had to deal with it before, but he'd witnessed one of the maids braiding Anna-Marie's hair once, and he felt he could do it himself. When he started to twist Remy's hair into the braid, he expected Remy to question him – but he didn't. He just let Logan work, smiling at him through the mirror. 

The silky hair was still damp from the bath, but there was little he could do about that. He stepped back after he'd tied the ribbon at the end of the braid, and smiled – it looked pretty good, all things considering. Remy said nothing as he twisted in front of the mirror to get a look at the braid, and then he turned to face Logan. 

"Is dere anyt'in' you can' do wit' yo' hands, Logan?" He laughed as a blush crept into Logan's cheeks, and he leant in to kiss one of them. A little flustered, Logan moved to pick up Remy's jacket, and he held it out so Remy could slip into it. "T'ank you, Logan. Will Remy see you at dinner, or is yo' footman well?" 

"I cannot say, my lord." He replied with a smile, brushing the jacket down across the shoulders. "But if not, you will see me when you retire this evening." 

"Den Remy will look fo'ward to dat." 

"As will I, my lord." 

\-- 

As he sat down to luncheon with the other servants, his mind was on Remy, and the kisses they'd shared. What on earth did he think he was doing? Even if Remy was not of the same gender, or engaged to his Lady, he was way out of Logan's league. Servants did not get involved with the people they served. Status was everything, and to marry or court beneath your status risked far too much. He had no delusions of running away with the young Lord, of course, for he knew it was not something that would ever be likely to happen – even if they would not be jailed immediately for their sinful crime, Remy would be disowned by his family and lose everything that mattered to him – but to even think about a secret relationship… no, it couldn't happen. He shouldn't get involved, especially knowing Anna-Marie was growing ever fonder of him. 

"So what do you think of the Earl and his son, Erik?" Kitty asked over her food, and Erik rolled his eyes a little. 

"The Earl is a decent man, but the Lord? I'm not so sure about him. Seems a bit… too playful." He admitted. "But Lady Anna-Marie seems to like him." 

"Well I think he seems absolutely wonderful." Ororo smiled, sending an Erik a look that challenged him to say otherwise. "He's an absolute gentleman. Lady Anna-Marie will be very happy with him." 

"I'll say." Kitty grinned. "Any woman would be very happy with a man like that, like… she's going to be real pleased on her wedding night, I've no doubt." Logan nearly choked on the mouthful of water he'd taken, and everyone turned to look at him curiously for a moment. 

"I rather think that's inappropriate for the table, Kitty." Charles chided. "And you should not be speaking that way about our noble guest." 

"Sorry, Mr Xavier." She ducked her head, and went back to eating. Logan excused himself, getting up from the table and hurrying outside for some air. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard before, of course, but it had reminded him of what he'd overheard Remy saying to Anna-Marie at dinner the previous night, and turned his mind to the kisses they'd shared earlier. He really had done something stupid by kissing him. _But it felt right, and you know it. Don't deny it,_ _Logan_ _._  

For a few moments, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to take Remy into his bed. Despite his attraction to members of the same gender, he'd never actually gone further than a kiss with any of them – too afraid to take it further, lest he be caught or it somehow backfired on him, but he knew enough of the act to be able to imagine it somewhat vividly. Just the thought of Remy's lithe body pressed beneath his, that smooth voice calling his name in the throes of passion, was enough to get him hot under the collar. 

He immediately felt guilty about thinking such thoughts, but it was a _good_ kind of guilty. The kind of guilty you felt when you swiped a leftover slice of chocolate cake from the Darkholmes' dessert before you returned the serving plate to the kitchens. Not that Logan had _ever_ done that, of course. Except he had. And it had been delicious. 

Once luncheon was over, Logan went back to his duties – he had Remy's riding clothes to deal with, after all. He wondered briefly if Remy would wish to change for dinner that evening. Since the young Lord did not conform to the standard evening dress, he didn't see why he would, but he wouldn't question it if that was what the Lord wanted. 

As it turned out, Remy indeed did not wish to change – he sought Logan out an hour after luncheon was over, Anna-Marie on his arm. Logan had to admit they made a wonderful couple, and a beautiful one at that. 

"Ah, Logan. Remy's sweet lady tells him dat she has a dress fittin' dis afternoon, an' so Remy was wonderin' if you'd be so kind as to give him de tour o' de house?" 

"Of course, my lord. It would be my pleasure to do so." He watched as Anna-Marie turned to Remy, taking his hands in hers. 

"I shall see you at dinner, my lord." She paused, laughed a little, and corrected herself. "No… _Remy_." He gave her his charming smile, and leant in to kiss her cheek. 

"Dat you will, cherie." He brought both her hands to his lips and kissed them, and then he let her go. "Remy won' be needin' a change fo' dinner, Logan. Dere doesn' seem to be much point, eh?" He grinned. "Now, shall we begin de tour?" 

"Of course." Logan smiled back at him. "Where would you like to start?" He took Remy around each of the main rooms one at a time, answering any questions he had – and desperately wishing to touch him. Once the tour inside was over, Logan led Remy out into the grounds, walking at his side as Remy inspected the gardens, leading him through various trails – and then his hand fisted in Logan's shirt, and Logan found himself being tugged behind a tree. 

Remy pressed himself back against the bark, and Logan was leaning in to kiss him before Remy could tug him any closer. It was strange really – considering only a while ago he was telling himself he shouldn't do this, he really wasn't putting up much of a fight. He moaned into the kiss as Remy's fingers wove into his hair, and he rolled his hips against the Lord's very subtly – and Remy gasped, pressing forward into him. They parted, breathless, but Remy didn't pause even for just a second. He nipped at Logan's jaw, and kissed down his throat until he reached the collar of his shirt, and Logan bit into his lip to stop himself from moaning again. 

"I shouldn't…" Logan murmured, but Remy silenced him with another kiss, his hands dropping to Logan's shoulders, holding him in place. "Someone might see." 

"Dere's no one out here." Remy rolled his eyes with a smile, his hands now sliding round and up Logan's back. "No one can see." 

"You'll ruin your jacket…" Logan kissed him again anyway, because he simply couldn't say no. When they parted this time, Logan lifted a hand and gently stroked hair out of Remy's eyes. "You are truly fascinating, my lord." He smiled, his thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "But… what of Lady Anna-Marie?" 

"She's a sweet t'ing, an' Remy is already fond o' her." Remy told him, nothing but honesty in his voice – Logan knew he spoke true. "An' he is almost certain he will be happy wit' her, too. But a woman can' make Remy feel de same way a man can." Remy licked his lips, and Logan tried not to get distracted by the shiny wetness that lingered upon them. "Remy likes de ladies, don' mistake dat. Dey are soft, an' delicate an' sweet, but…" His hands wandered down over Logan's chest, until they came to rest on his hips. "But a man is strong, firm… an' not'in' can beat dat." 

"Can't argue with that." Logan smiled, pulling him close for another kiss. 

"Will you come to Remy tonight, Logan?" Logan stepped back a little to look at him properly, for a moment unable to answer. Remy took his silence for uncertainty, and he pushed away from the tree to step right up against him. "Not'in' has to happen dat you don' want. Remy jus'… well, it's not dat often dat Remy meets someone like him, you know?" Logan did know. In all his life he'd only met two other men who had a physical interest in other men, and both of them had been too afraid of being jailed to stick around. 

"You want company." Logan smiled a little, his arm snaking around Remy's waist. "Well, my lord… as it is my duty to serve you, I cannot deny you that." Logan sank to one knee, for once not caring about the risk of grass-stains on his trousers, and he took Remy's hand in his and brought it to his lips. 

\-- 

Scott had recovered by the time dinner was due to be served, and so Logan did not see Remy during dinner. He passed his time in the servants' hall, scrubbing at the grass stain on one knee of his trousers from that afternoon – and ignoring Kitty's questions as to how he got it. That would require far too much explaining. Alex, Kurt's valet, sat smoking on the other side of the table, idly complaining to Amara about the state of the young master's riding clothes, and Logan was only half-listening, his mind wandering towards the many possibilities of what would come of his visit to Remy's chambers that night. 

He knew he should make an excuse, tell him it was too much of a risk and that if they were caught it would be fatal for them both, but he knew it was hopeless. He was going to visit Remy that night regardless of any risk. He ate dinner with the other servants in silence, still lost in his thoughts, and for the most part the others left him to it. They could tell he was somewhere else, and didn't feel the need to disturb him. 

It was another few hours before the bell for Remy's room rang, signalling that Logan was needed, and he excused himself from the others and headed upstairs. Remy was waiting when he got there – sat on his bed, brushing out the braid Logan had put in earlier. 

"Forgive the delay, my lord." Logan said as he closed the door, giving a small bow to him. Remy laughed and waved dismissively, before beckoning him over. 

"Remy's got all night, Logan. Don' worry." He rose from the bed as Logan approached, and he was already shrugging out of his jacket when Logan reached to take it from him. He slowly unbuttoned the waistcoat, smirking as Remy's hands settled on his hips, and he leant in to place a kiss upon his jaw. 

"Are you going to make this difficult, my lord?" Logan asked lightly, pushing the waistcoat down over Remy's shoulders until it came to a stop at his elbows. "It will be hard to undress you whilst your hands are otherwise occupied." With a slight laugh, Remy let his arms drop to his sides so Logan could remove the waistcoat, and he turned to place it carefully with the jacket. 

"Dis is hardly fair." Remy murmured as Logan gently loosened the ribbon around his collar, and set it to one side. "You get to undress Remy every nigh', but Remy never gets to undress you." Logan grinned, unfastening the band of the half-train from Remy's waist, and carefully folding it to put with the rest of the clothes. 

"You may undress me if that is your wish, my lord. But it cannot be now." Remy's hands were back on his hips, and when he leant in, Logan accepted his kiss. "I have duties to attend to once my lord is settled in his bed, and the others will notice if I am gone." 

"But you will come back, de moment you can?" Logan worked on the shirt buttons, licking his lips as smooth, tan skin was revealed bit by bit. 

"I will." The shirt slid from Remy's shoulders, and Logan gently pushed him down onto the end of the bed. "I promise." When he went to one knee, Remy lifted his leg and Logan caught it in one hand, leaning in to press a kiss to the inside of his knee. When he slid the boot off, he let it fall somewhat carelessly to the floor, but he knew Remy would not mind – and he trailed light kisses down the inside of his leg before he released it. "I would never refuse you, my lord." 

"Remy is lucky to have you as his valet, Logan." Remy smiled as Logan finished removing his boots – and before he could stand, Remy leant forward to kiss him sweetly. "You take such good care o' him." 

"It is my honour to do so, my lord." Logan whispered against his lips. Remy's hands settled on Logan's shoulders, holding him in place whilst Remy stood. Logan swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly dry, and he let his hands slide down Remy's thighs very gently, before carefully ghosting his fingers up under his shorts. 

With careful movements, Logan reached up to unbutton them, glancing up to meet Remy's eyes and to check that this was okay, that he wasn't stepping over a line he shouldn't be. Remy gave him a subtle nod in silent answer, and Logan began to inch the shorts down his legs, his hands trembling very slightly as more skin was revealed. Remy was breathing shallowly, the muscles of his abdomen trembling with the movement, and Logan leant forward to kiss them one by one. Long fingers twisted into his hair at the same time as a soft moan reached Logan's ears, and he smiled against Remy's skin. 

Both of them jumped sharply when someone knocked on the door. 

"Remy?" _Anna-Marie._ Logan hurriedly got to his feet and smoothed down his hair, quickly checking his face wasn't flushed before he crossed the room to the door. Behind him, he heard the sounds of fabric rustling, and hoped Remy would cover up decently before Anna-Marie saw him. He opened the door just a little, and smiled at the young woman standing in the hallway. 

"His Lordship is still undressing for bed, my lady. How can I help?" 

"I was just wondering if Remy would like to go into the town with me tomorrow. I'll be trying on my new dress and there's a fair on, so I thought it would be nice for us to go." Logan glanced back into the room and saw that Remy had pulled on a violet robe, and at his nod he opened the door wider. 

"Dat sounds wonderful, cherie." He grinned brightly at her, moving to stand beside Logan in the doorway. "Remy would be delighted to join you." 

"Oh, wonderful." She smiled back at him. "It is settled, then. I shall bid you goodnight." As smoothly as he had done earlier, Remy leant down to kiss her cheek. 

"Sleep well, cherie." As Anna-Marie turned and disappeared down the hallway, Logan closed the door and sank back against it with a groan. "A shame dat she interrupted…" Remy purred, stepping close to him, one finger hooking into the waistband of Logan's trousers. 

"Perhaps it's good that she did." Logan smiled, setting one hand on Remy's hip. "If I am kept too long the other servants might wonder what I'm up to." He leant in, kissed him. "And we wouldn't want anyone else knocking upon the door, would we?" 

"Non, yo' right." Remy laughed, stepping back from him. "Well den, Remy relieves you o' your service fo' de night, Logan." He turned from him, and a moment later his shorts dropped out from beneath his robe. He bent to pick them up, and placed them on top of the other clothes, and then he glanced at Logan over one shoulder. "An' he will see you later, non?" 

"Y-Yes… indeed you will." Logan stammered out, watching as he circled the bed and then sprawled upon it, his robe slipping down one shoulder. He fumbled for the door handle and opened the door, clearing his throat a little. "Goodnight, my lord. I hope you sleep well." Remy blew him a kiss before he shut the door behind him, and Logan groaned softly. He wasn't sure he'd last the hour or so he had to wait before he could sneak back up to finish what they'd started. 

He had to wait until everyone had retired to bed before he could risk sneaking up to Remy's room. He didn't even light a candle, not wanting the flickering light to give him away. He reached Remy's room as fast as he could manage, and he knocked lightly on the door first so he wouldn't startle him – and then he opened the door and slipped inside. 

Remy looked up from the book he'd been reading, and smiled, marking the page before he set it down on the bedside table. The only light in the room came from the lamp beside him, the soft light making it appear as though his skin were glowing golden. Logan closed the door quietly, and whilst he still had a clear head he grabbed a chair and propped it under the handle, just in case. Remy sat up a little more as Logan circled around the bed, slipping his shoes off carefully before perching upon it. 

"I'm sorry it took so long." He murmured, reaching for Remy as he shuffled closer, the sheets pooling in his lap with the movement. "I had to wait until everyone went to bed." 

"Remy knew you'd come, no matter how long it took." He pulled him in for a kiss, his fingers catching Logan's robe and sliding it from his shoulders. "Does Remy get to undress you now?" Logan laughed, stealing another kiss. 

"If that's what my lord wishes." He stood to make it easier for him, and Remy knelt up on the bed, the sheets sliding down, and Logan's breath hitched as he realised Remy had been completely bare beneath it. Remy kissed him again as his fingers worked at the buttons of Logan's pyjama shirt, and Logan let his hands stroke lightly up Remy's spine. He was warm from the bed, his skin soft and… perfect. 

Logan let his shirt fall to the floor, and when Remy pulled him back onto the bed he allowed it to happen. He pressed Remy down onto his back, positioning himself over him as the kiss deepened. Remy's fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his trousers, and then they were being pushed down, and Logan kicked them off when Remy's hands could no longer reach. 

Remy bucked his hips up against him, his hardening length brushing against Logan's, and they both moaned into the kiss. They parted, gasping, and Remy met Logan's gaze with a sly little grin. 

"Let Remy see you." He murmured, and when Logan nodded, he reversed their positions, settling himself over him, straddling his thighs. Logan let out a shaky breath as Remy's fingers brushed against his collarbone – tentative and cautious, as though he were afraid of touching too firmly. "Logan…" Remy breathed out softly, bending over him to kiss where his fingertips had touched, and Logan shivered beneath him. 

Remy took his time, fingertips tracing every line and curve of Logan's body, his lips following in their path. Logan's fingers slid into Remy's hair as he kissed down his stomach, and urged him back up before he could get any further – and when Remy's lips met his, he ghosted a hand down the Lord's spine and pressed him hard against him. This time the kiss was hard, fierce, almost desperate, and Logan rolled them until Remy was beneath him once more, his hips rolling down to grind against his. Logan's lips found Remy's throat, and nails dragged over his shoulders as Remy arched up into him with a soft gasp. 

"Logan…" He sighed, his head rolling back against the pillows as teeth lightly scraped over his collarbone. "I want you… let me have you…" 

"I've not done this before…" Logan admitted, trailing kisses over his chest. "Not this far." He lifted his head to meet Remy's gaze, one hand cupping Remy's cheek. "You're so beautiful…" 

"Remy's not done it eit'er." He smiled gently, leaning into his hand. "He's done no more dan a lil' touchin'." Logan pulled back as Remy made to sit up, and Logan lifted his weight from him. "But he knows how it's done, an' he wants it wit' you." Long fingers wrapped around Logan's length, and he drew in a sharp breath at the touch. 

"You can have me, my lord." He moaned, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Remy's. "You can have me." If he was going to sin, Remy was the one he wanted to sin with. 

Logan found himself being pushed back onto the bed, Remy's fingers working around him at a teasingly slow pace. He bit into his bottom lip to silence himself, knowing he needed to be as quiet as possible. The last thing they wanted was to be caught _now_. Remy's lips found his collarbone, his teeth nipping at his skin, and Logan twisted a hand into that soft, silky hair and held on tight. 

He rolled them again, rocking down against Remy, thrusting into his hand as desire built up, and their lips joined in a fierce, desperate kiss. One of Remy's legs wrapped around Logan's waist and he bucked up, grinding against him with a soft, low moan. Logan broke the kiss, trailing his lips down Remy's neck and wishing he could mark him – but he knew he couldn't. Not without raising suspicion, even if Remy wore a lot of high collars. He'd have to settle for somewhere else. 

When he sank his teeth into the gap between his collarbones, Remy arched up off the bed with a sharp gasp, and nails raked down his arms. The reaction was worth the slight flare of pain. When he pulled back, he smirked as he inspected the red mark he'd left behind, and knew that it'd be darker still by the morning. He'd enjoy kissing it better when he dressed Remy tomorrow. 

"Logan… mon dieu, _please_ …" Remy whined, one hand trailing down to his own length. Logan caught his wrist before his hand could reach its desired destination, and he bent over him once more, slowly kissing down his chest and stomach. He was entirely inexperienced when it came to this, but he'd heard enough talk about how it was done, and he really, really wanted to try it for Remy. He parted his lips and took Remy's length into his mouth, pleased by the reaction he received – Remy caught a handful of Logan's hair and grasped tightly, his hips bucking, and the moan that escaped his lips was _sinful_. He sank further down onto him, his tongue curling around the shaft, tasting him, exploring him. It was a little strange to him, but surprisingly enjoyable, and Remy certainly seemed to like it. 

When Remy tugged sharply on his hair a few moments later, Logan lifted his head, groaning at the sight that met him – Remy's face was flushed beautifully, lips parted, his breathing shallow and shaky. Logan licked his lips, bending to press a kiss to the head, and grinned when Remy's eyes slid shut and he groaned softly. 

"Logan…" His voice was huskier than before, thick with desire and need. "Remy wants you inside. _Now_." 

"As you wish, my lord." Logan grinned, rising from the bed and heading into the bathroom to find something with which to ease the way. He returned with some oil he knew would work, and knelt upon the bed once more, uncapping the bottle to pour some into his hand. "Sweet lord you are _divine_ …" He murmured as he gently parted Remy's thighs, slipping one hand between them. 

He kissed him deeply as he worked him open, slowly and carefully, not wanting to push too far too soon and hurt him. The sounds Remy made were sinfully delicious, unlike anything Logan had heard before, and only encouraged him on further. Once he felt secure in the knowledge that Remy was ready for him, he reached for the oil once more and poured more into his hand, stroking it over his length thoroughly. 

Remy tugged him closer, lifting one leg and resting it over Logan's shoulder as he lined himself up. Logan linked their fingers together before he slowly pushed inside, groaning at the friction it provided. Remy's head rolled back and he bit deeply into his bottom lip, bearing the initial pain of being breached. Once Logan was settled almost all the way inside him, he paused to give both of them time to adjust – and then he gave a single thrust to test the waters. 

"Mon _dieu_!" Remy moaned out, his spine arching off the bed. His hands clutched at whatever part of Logan he could reach – an arm, a shoulder, anything – and held on tight, trying to push back against him. Logan's head dropped forward as he groaned, one hand gripping Remy's hip tightly, the other on the bed beside Remy, bracing himself. This was beyond anything Logan could have imagined, far beyond, and _perfect_. "More, Logan… s'il vous plait…!" 

Logan didn't need to be asked twice. He thrust again, drinking in the sounds Remy made, and his grip on Remy's hip tightened as pleasure rushed through him. In the back of his mind, somewhere, he was aware that they couldn't risk taking their time, and so he started up as quick a pace as he would let himself, biting into his lip to stop himself from crying out too loud. 

Remy pressed his fist to his mouth to muffle his cries as Logan thrust deeper into him, his other hand clutching at him desperately as he tried to match every thrust with one of his own. When Logan bent forward, the position almost impossible if it weren't for Remy's apparent flexibility, Remy leant up to meet him for a kiss that silenced them both. They moved together as though it were a well-rehearsed dance, their moans muffled by the other's mouth, and when Logan reached his climax it was Remy's name upon his lips. 

He withdrew from him carefully, trailing kisses down Remy's throat, his tongue dipping into the hollow between his collarbones. When Remy whined softly, he smiled and travelled further down, kissing and licking and nipping lightly until he reached his desired destination – and his lips parted to take him into his mouth. Remy arched up off the bed with a moan, his fingers twisting into Logan's hair and tugging lightly. He was already close at it was, so it wasn't long before he was calling Logan's name as he released into his mouth. Logan did his best to swallow it all down – the taste was a little peculiar, but not entirely unpleasant, and he was licking his lips as he lifted his head once more. 

"Is my lord satisfied with my service?" Logan murmured, kissing his way back up to Remy's lips. 

"Oui." Remy grinned lazily, pulling him down for a slow, soft kiss. "Remy will be putting in a good word fo' you." 

"I hope you won't be specific with the details." Logan laughed softly as Remy rolled them until Logan lay beneath him. "That would be hard to explain." 

"Oh, non. Dat's gon' be Remy's lil' secret, non?" He grinned, teeth nipping at Logan's neck. "He's jus' gon' compliment yo'… services." They kissed again, long and slow, savouring the moment knowing it had to end soon. 

When Logan left Remy's room a few minutes later, re-dressed and wearing a stupid little smile on his face, he knew he was in trouble. 

He was actually falling in love with Anna-Marie's fiancé. 

\-- 

It continued this way for the next week – Logan would attend Remy every morning, taking a little extra time in dressing him so they could share sweet kisses between items of clothing, and come the evening he would delight in taking his time in undressing him slowly. Once everyone had retired to bed, Logan would sneak back to Remy's room and find the young Lord waiting for him. 

Logan hated leaving him after only so short a time together, but he knew the risk of staying longer. If he were caught in Remy's bed, that would be the end for them both, and so he crept back to his own room under cover of darkness, and fell asleep to the memories of Remy's beautiful body beneath him, and those sinful lips against his own. 

He was dreading the day that Earl LeBeau would take his son back to their manor whilst the preparations for the marriage between Remy and Anna-Marie were made. Not being able to see him, to touch him, was going to be incredibly difficult – and then there was the issue of when Anna-Marie would move to the LeBeau manor and he'd only see Remy at big family occasions, such as Christmas, or a wedding. 

"Lady Anna-Marie told me I'm to go with her when she marries Lord LeBeau." Kitty's voice cut through Logan's thoughts, and he focused on the conversation going on around him. He'd wandered into his own mind during dinner, too distracted by the thought of how he'd cope with Remy so far away. "Once she marries, I'll be like, a proper lady's maid." 

"We will be sorry to see you go, Kitty." Charles said with a fond smile. "And I know you will continue to do us all proud in your duty." 

"I'm actually excited for the idea." Kitty smiled brightly. "Although I'll miss all of you. I wonder what their cooks are like… and the maids! I hope I'll get along with them. I don't suppose they have another lady's maid at the manor, not since the Countess died." 

"Apparently there are no women at the LeBeau manor, save for the maids." Erik piped up. "The Earl had no daughters, and his two sisters have long since married and moved away." When everyone glanced at him in surprise, he shrugged. "I have become friendly with the Earl's valet, Mikael." 

"I suppose you'll have lots of young men to become friendly with, Kitty." Amara grinned. "Doesn't the Earl have another son?" Everyone glanced to Erik for the answers. 

"Yes, he does. Lord Henri." Erik told them. "Younger than Lord Remy, though that much is obvious since he's the heir. I'm not sure why he didn't come along with his father and brother, and I haven't asked." 

"As you shouldn't. It is not our place to question the actions of our guests." Charles nodded with a faint smile. "Now, hurry it along. I am sure they will be ready for the next course any minute now." He hesitated by the door for a moment. "Logan, might I ask you to fill in for Scott? He has taken ill once more – I have sent for the doctor, but he will certainly not be fit for serving at dinner." 

"Of course." Logan nodded, trying not to show his eagerness for spending a little extra time in Remy's company. He kept it all under control even as he stepped into the dining room behind Charles, a tray in one hand. When he bent to serve Remy, he didn't miss the quick smile that tugged at the young Lord's lips. 

"Ah, it is a surprise to see you, Logan." Remy murmured casually. 

"Unfortunately Scott has taken ill." Logan told him, fighting off the urge to touch him in any way. 

"How awful." It was Jean-Luc who spoke, and Logan lifted his eyes to the Earl, glad of the slight distraction. "I do hope he recovers soon. As it is, dis is somewhat convenient, fo' dere is somet'in' I would like to ask of you, Logan." 

"And what is that, your lordship?" Logan bent to serve Anna-Marie next, but he kept his eyes upon the Earl, not wanting to seem rude. 

"Remy speaks very highly o' yo' services, an' he is most impressed wit' you." Logan felt a slight flush creep up the back of his neck, and he fought to keep it at bay. That would require far too much explaining. "I have already discussed dis wit' Lord an' Lady Darkholme an' dey have agreed dat de choice is up to you." 

"Papa, don' drag it out." Remy rolled his eyes a little, grinning now. "Or Remy shall ask him fo' you." 

"You keep yo' tongue still." Jean-Luc chided fondly, and then he turned his attention back to Logan. "Remy has had many valets in his life, but none o' dem seem to stick fo' long. As it happens, he is wit'out one at dis present time, an' given how impressed he is wit' you… I would like to offer you de position." 

"Are you asking if I would become Lord Remy's valet, your lordship?" Logan straightened up, surprised and more than a little stunned. 

"I understand dat it would be a big step, an' dat you would be leavin' a home you have served fo' many years. You are wit'in yo' rights to decline, o' course, don' feel like you have to accept or risk offendin' me or my son." Jean-Luc smiled warmly, glancing back at Remy briefly. "I am also told dat Lady Anna-Marie is very fond o' you, an' a familiar face at de manor might help her feel more at home, once dey are married." 

"I am honoured that you would even consider me for the position, your lordship." Logan paused, trying to get his thoughts into some sort of order so he could give the Earl an answer. 

"You do not have to answer now." Jean-Luc quickly cut in. "T'ink on it, an' give me yo' answer befo' we leave on de morrow." Logan smiled, and gave a polite bow. 

"I will, thank you." The conversation moved on – more plans for the wedding – but Logan was barely listening as he circled the table, serving more wine where it was needed. This was the answer to his problems, surely! If he became Remy's valet, he would move to the manor with him, and he would attend him night and day for the rest of his working life, if Remy so wished it. But then… he would be married, and sharing his chambers with Lady Anna-Marie. It was one thing to share the bed of an unmarried man – engaged or not – but it would be another thing entirely once Remy was a husband, and a husband to a young woman Logan had grown very fond of over the years. 

Would it be more difficult to live without him, or to live with him and not be able to have him? 

When Logan slipped into Remy's room that night, he hadn't come to any sort of decision, and Remy could read it plainly on his face. Instead of pulling him into his arms to hurriedly undress him, Remy simply guided him to sit on the edge of the bed, and took his hand in both of his own. 

"You are troubled by Papa's offer." He sighed, lifting his hand in order to kiss it. "Do you not wish to be Remy's valet, Logan? Remy t'ought you would jump at de chance." 

"It's not that, my lord." Logan gave him a smile, but it was half-hearted and it faded quickly. "I would love nothing more than to attend you night and day at your manor, and serve you in all the ways you wish." 

"Den what holds you back?" Logan didn't answer for a moment, trying to put his feelings into words, and then he slowly moved from the bed to drop to one knee in front of him. 

"Love." He said at last. "Love is what holds me back, my lord. Love for the family I have served so long. Love for the young woman I hold very dear, whose future husband has been my lover for the past week. If it continued after you were married… it would feel like a betrayal." He paused, and sighed. "And it is love for you, my lord, a love that can never be spoken of. I still do not know what would hurt more, my lord – to stay here, without you, or to be near you and never have you, knowing that I love you as much as I do." 

"You t'ink dat dis would jus' go away once Remy is married?" Remy shook his head slowly, taking Logan's hands in his own again. "Anna-Marie is dear to Remy, too, an' he will do everyt'in' he can to make her happy, but he cannot deny his own heart, an' his heart is yours, Logan." He smiled a little, glancing down at their joined hands for a moment. "Remy does not wish to be an unfait'ful husband to sweet Anna-Marie, but he also cannot help bein' in love, non?" 

"Then I should not be there to tempt you, my lord." Logan stood, reluctantly pulling away from him. "I will decline your father's offer on the morrow, so that I cannot be the reason for disrupting your marriage." He watched Remy's shoulders slump, and he knew he was probably breaking the young Lord's heart. "Were you not marrying that sweet young lady, perhaps my answer would be different, but I cannot get between you." 

"You are an honourable man, Logan, puttin' de happiness o' de Lady befo' yo' own." Remy stood now, reaching for his hand once more. Logan tried to pull away, but he couldn't break his heart further, and so he let him lace their fingers together. "Please come wit' me, Logan. My Mama once told me dat I should never let love get away, dat I should hold on to it wit' everyt'in' I am because it don' come around dat often. If you really want to stay den I will accept dat, jus'… jus' know dat I want you wit' me, no matter what de cost." He smiled, giving Logan's hand a slight squeeze. "I will be true to dat sweet lady, I swear it, an' I will love her an' be de husband she deserves, but a big part o' my heart will always be yours." 

"How am I even deserving of your love, my lord?" Logan whispered softly, tugging the young Lord into his arms. "I am just a servant, nothing grand or special or outstanding." 

"Dat's where yo' wrong, cher." Remy pulled him in for a soft, sweet kiss, and grinned – and Logan smiled back at him almost immediately. "Dere is somet'in' very special about you, even if you don' see it." He kissed him again, longer this time. "But Remy sees it." Logan held him close, not finding any words that could convey how he felt in that moment. "If dis is to be de last night dat Remy has wit' you, den he would make it memorable, non?"

"Right you are, my lord." Logan brought Remy's hand to his lips, and kissed his knuckles. "Right you are." 

\-- 

Come the morning, Charles and Erik were assisting Mikael with the luggage, loading it up into the LeBeau car whilst the lords and ladies made their goodbyes. Logan watched from inside the front door as Remy bowed before Anna-Marie, kissing her gloved hand lightly. He smiled as she pulled her hand free and instead threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He knew she'd be truly happy with the young Lord, and he would treat her well. 

Mikael held open the car door ready, giving a subtle nod to Erik as the footman took his place in line with the maids to one side, ready to see the Earl off. Jean-Luc turned to Lord Darkholme with a final shake of his hand, and then stepped back, a hand on Remy's shoulder. 

"T'ank you again fo' yo' hospitality, an' you are all welcome to come an' stay at my manor whenever you wish. We will keep in good contact to discuss de weddin' plans, an' I imagine my dear sisters will want a hand in dat, so I shall apologise in advance on behalf o' dem." They all laughed, and Logan knew that was his cue. He took a deep breath and glanced around the Darkholme manor before he picked up his case and stepped out to join the others. 

"I apologise for the delay, your lordship." He bowed his head to Jean-Luc once he had descended the steps from the front door. "I was saying a final goodbye to the house, as daft as that may seem." 

"Not at all, Logan. I can understand dat." Jean-Luc smiled. "Take as long as you need." 

"We will truly miss you, Logan." It was Anna-Marie who stepped forward first, and hugged him tightly. It took only half a second before Kurt and Jubilee joined their sister, and Logan found himself surrounded. He smiled fondly, and returned their embrace as best he could. 

"As I will miss all of you very dearly. But we won't be strangers, I am sure." When they stepped back, Logan moved to take his place beside Mikael as Jean-Luc climbed into the car. When Remy followed his father, Logan gave him a warm smile that Remy returned eagerly. 

Seated in the front of the vehicle beside Mikael, Logan turned and watched the Darkholme manor disappear, and he wondered for a moment if he'd made the right decision – but then he remembered the young Lord in the back of the car, the young Lord who had claimed him last night and whispered words of love to him in the throes of passion, and he knew it was the only decision he could have made. 

He would serve Lord Remy LeBeau in any way he was required, and he would love him for eternity.


End file.
